


It'll be okay, kid

by knightofcocks



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Gun Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightofcocks/pseuds/knightofcocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just do it, Mikey.” Charlie’s voice is clear, breaking through all the fuzz in his mind. Mike doesn’t quite grasp what she means, his brows furrowing of their own volition. “It’s okay,” she says, her voice even and soft. It figures that even in a time like this she can manage to stay this comforting to Mike. “It’ll be okay, kid.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'll be okay, kid

How he got here, he could hardly remember. 

The thoughts and memories of the car ride, of Briggs’s voice that flowed so easily into his ear what felt hours ago. Briggs’s voice had stopped sounding as soon as he had made his way through the building, before he was led into the room where he stands now. It’s quiet, to the point that Mike can hear his pulse. The lub-dub that sounds so loudly he could swear everyone within two miles of him could hear it; beating so strong that he could swear it could be seen from space.

He swallows thickly at the sight in front of him. Charlie and Johnny are being held, forced to their knees, guns pressed to the backs of their heads. There’s a feeling of metal butting against his head as well. The metal hits lightly, but it still brings a sting of pain, causing Mike to flinch at the sensation; his head jutting forward the slightest amount.

Whatever the men are saying, he can hardly make out, his focus stuck on the two in front of him. Mike knows what they want him to do, though. They found out who he is, and despite assurance of his loyalty, they rightfully doubted him.

The head of the men, at least of the ones here, Essi, is nearly yelling at Mike, telling him that he’s going to have to prove his loyalty, that his word isn’t good enough anymore. A gun – his gun that they had managed to take from him when they led him back here – is being returned to his hand. A larger, darker hand is returning it with such careful delicacy that Mike should hardly notice it, but the man is still speaking. He has to kill one of them.

The words echo in his mind as he stares at the two kneeling before him. He knows that there are already tears welling, but he’s grounded, Charlie staring up at him, trying to give him some telepathic form of comfort that shouldn’t be working, but is working better than anything else before. Johnny is there, staring at the ground, ready to accept whatever it was, as if Mike had already made his decision.

“Just do it, Mikey.” Charlie’s voice is clear, breaking through all the fuzz in his mind. Mike doesn’t quite grasp what she means, his brows furrowing of their own volition. “It’s okay,” she says, her voice even and soft. It figures that even in a time like this she can manage to stay this comforting to Mike. “It’ll be okay, kid.”

Johnny is looking over to Charlie, confusion showing on his face. He’s speaking, but Mike can’t tell what he’s saying, too focused on Charlie’s gaze. The only way he’s not already folded in on himself, letting the tears come. Fear and guilt have built up so strongly that he can hardly contain it inside himself. The pressure ready to bust out at any moment, tear him apart.

“I can’t,” the words are choked out. They hardly flow out like words normally would. He never has this much trouble forming any two words. He may not always be good with words, but he can get them out. They flow so naturally from him, and now he can barely think. How can he? How can he do any of this? He can’t choose between them; can’t kill either of them. He can just imagine Briggs being pissed when he gets out of this, no matter what happens. Mike could let them kill him, and hope that they’ll let these two out, let them go free with only the bruises and small cuts that are already there. “I can’t choose.”

He glances over to the man that’s been speaking to him. His eyes are wide, and glassy. He’s never looked more like a child than in this moment. “Please, let them go,” Mike manages. “Let them go, and kill me instead. They haven’t done anything to you.” If this were any other time, if Mike was calmer, and had a clearer mind, there might have been biting anger in his words. In this moment, however, they were simple pleas for his friends. “Please, Essi.”

And suddenly there are clicks as the safety of the guns that the two men behind Charlie and Johnny are switched off.

“We aren’t intending to kill you, Mike.” Essi’s voice breaks through the barrier of Mike’s mind for the first time. “If you won’t make the choice, then we kill them both. So, really it’s up to you.”  
Mike doesn’t respond with more than just his gaze turning back to Johnny and Charlie. His finger runs along the short trigger, an absentminded action. He could try to shoot Essi, but Charlie, Johnny and him would all be shot quickly, all of this wouldn’t matter.

“Mikey,” Charlie’s voice calls his attention. It cracks this time, but she clears her throat, and everything returns to how it always was; smooth, even, soothing. “Mikey, give me the gun.”

He can’t find his voice. He can’t process what she’s asking, but Johnny has. Of course he has.

“Charlie, no. Just let the man do it. We know he won’t pick you, just-”

Charlie is slowly reaching for the gun, trying to show she isn’t a threat to any of the men that are around. Her hands wrap around Mike’s own, lifting his arm and the gun as she pulls them to her. “Give me the gun, Mikey. All of this will be over. You and Johnny will go back, and you guys can take care of everything with Briggs, and Paige. All you have to do is let go of the gun.”

But Mike doesn’t. He moves his finger from the trigger, and wraps his hand over it, covering it from Charlie.

He can hear Essi again; telling him that he has to do it himself, that neither of the two can shoot. If there were a way out of this, a way to save both of them, Mike needed it. These two, his friends, were far too good for the world to lose. He was insignificant, they were better than he could ever dream. Why give them up, why take them away, when he didn’t matter, anyway.

“Just do it, Mike.” Charlie presses her head to the muzzle, her eyes sliding shut as the cool metal kisses her forehead. Her hands grip Mike’s hand tighter, just for a moment; a final act of comfort; before they loosen again, unmoving from their place. “All you have to do is pull the trigger, sweetheart, and you and Johnny can walk out of here, with no more than a few bumps and bruises.”

Johnny is begging for Mike to pull the gun away, to just shoot him instead, to get Charlie out of there, to save her.

He just wants this to be over.

“Johnny, stop!” Charlie yells. She breathes deeply, and she starts to pry Mike’s hand from its position. “Mikey, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me,” she keeps up the soft tone that she always has when she’s speaking to him, a hint of wavering playing so subtly that only Mike notices. Her hands move Mike’s finger to the trigger, adjusting his hand to grasp the gun correctly. Her hands stay on his the entire time. “I’m here with you. You need to just do this one thing for me. You need to just pull the trigger, and get Johnny and yourself out of this mess. You’ll get back to Graceland, and you can get on your way.”

The tears from Mike’s eyes flow so easily now.

“I swear to God, if you don’t get out of this mess, and move on, I will haunt your asses for the rest of your lives.”

Both Johnny and Mike manage a single heavy laugh. It wasn’t so much of an empty threat, not from her. They shouldn’t laugh anyway. And the small laughs are quickly devolving to choked sobs.  
“I need you to do this, Mikey. Get yourself out.” Her hand moves, a weight pressing against his finger. “Please.”

And like that the soft weight on his hand is gone. If there was a noise, Mike was deaf to it. There’s blood pooling, and there’s Charlie, a single last breath leaving her. Mike is gone. He can’t move, think, or speak. He can’t do anything but stare at the image before him. He waits, hoping that Charlie will wake up, will stand again and tell him that it’s all right, that all of this was fake. The blood, the gun, the whole setup; it was all planned. But she doesn’t, and she won’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago, and finally got around to making an account and posting it on here. I've thought of continuing this but I'm not entirely sure where it will go. 
> 
> However, feedback would be great!


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